poetry

Story Time with Robert Frost

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It’s amazing the kinds of things that happen as a kid that end up impacting you for years to come. Whether it’s being up on stage for the first time or getting to meet a celebrity in the flesh, those moments can leave a lasting impression that can mold us down the road.

This week I’m over on my Youtube channel talking about a unique experience I had with poetry when I was little. It was both exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time, and I thought it would be fun to share! I’ve been posting up a lot of tutorials for the past few weeks, and I wanted to do something a little different.

I hope you all enjoy this! Maybe I should do more story time videos in the future? What do you think?

Drabble: Diverted Flight

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Prompt: Diverted Flight

Into the trees, you crash and spin
the limbs cut ribbons into your skin.
You claw at the branches, your fingers rubbed bare
but there’s nothing to grab onto but air.

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The ground rushes toward you at impossible speed
bright roses greet you, immune to your needs.
Their blood-red blossoms bow and sway
already prepared for your inevitable grave.

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A sharp pain pulls against your chest
bones snap and your lungs protest
Your fall has ended but the pain only spreads
too late it comes, and you’re filled with dread.

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Your parachute caught up high in the trees
You’ll soon be a dead man swaying in the breeze.
Saved from a fall that was sure to kill
The ground won’t finish you, but dehydration will.

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You reach for your dagger to cut yourself free
but frown as your vision blurs; you can barely see
A few broken ribs are the least of your fears
regret fills you as you realize this is real.

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A voice in the distance sparks up some hope
but your breath cannot seem to escape your throat.
Something slick slips silently from your fingertips,
the knife hits the earth, a curse on your lips.

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They’re searching for you, down far below
but you can already feel yourself letting go
A gust of wind, and you’re lost in the trees,
and all because of a poorly timed breeze.

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The knife will be found long before the body;
the fool who leaped without researching his hobby.

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Originally posted on Typetrigger. Fiction in 300 words or less. Please pardon typos or grammatical errors. See sidebar for copyright information.

Drabble: Fire Burning

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Prompt: Fire Burning

Good Girl

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A fire burns behind her eyes,

a fire of heat and scorn.

She looks at me with those pale blue eyes

all hope has been forlorn.

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She has no mother or father

and her siblings are all dead.

She has no home, no country,

and no path with which to tread.

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Hatred burrows deep inside her

and tears out all regret.

Any love she might have felt

is gone without a fret.

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She is the bitter vengeance,

a punishment they say.

An inevitable death

on whom pleas will not sway.

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When she decides to take up arms

one day when she is older,

few can possibly deny

how righteous is her fervor.

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She is a product of her time,

a creation not intended,

but with such fire burning,

how can we ever mend it?

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A gentle hand, a warm heart,

these things can take some time.

But without patience she’ll run

headlong to some crime

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Against her own people

or strangers, she will fight

because fire burns the brightest

when good kindling sets alight.

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Originally posted on Typetrigger. Fiction in 300 words or less.
Please pardon typos or grammatical errors. See sidebar for copyright information.